


Soldier, come home

by Inkognito97



Series: Star Wars [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anakin and Obi-Wan are brothers, Domestic Fluff, Domestic verse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fights, Hurt/Comfort, Jinnobi Challenge 2017, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Misunderstanding, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Qui-Gon and Tahl are siblings, Qui-Gon is a war veteran, poor qui-gon, quiobi, they are roughly the same age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkognito97/pseuds/Inkognito97
Summary: His mother had warned him not to date a soldier, especially not one, who would be sent into crisis areas. Back then, he had thrown all warnings to the wind and even today he did not regret his decision. But he often asked himself, if Qui-Gon did.Jinnobi Challenge 2017





	Soldier, come home

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters, neither do I earn money with it.
> 
> Also, every mistake is my own.

Soldier, come home

 

It was the panicked scream that alerted him to his husband’s distress. Immediately, the ginger haired man with the full beard, dropped everything he was holding and rushed into the room, from where the terrified scream had come. It did not take long for the bearded man to find the source of the terrible sound. The man in question was huddled in a dark corner of their shared bedroom, only half dressed and trembling all over.

Obi-Wan, for that was the ginger haired man’s name, sighed at the sight. His heart breaking even more than it already was. Slowly, so that he would not startle the usually calm and collected tall man, who looked so vulnerable and uncontrolled right now, he made his way forward. He made little noise on the brown carpet, but still enough to alert Qui-Gon to his approach. The long haired male made no move to acknowledge him whatsoever, not that Obi-Wan had expected anything else. When his husband was in such a state, he barely noticed anything that was going on around him.

 

“Qui-Gon,” whispered the ginger haired male, after kneeling down right in front of the partly naked man. “Dear one,” he tried again. Obi-Wan did not dare to touch the man, fearing what might happen. He had read that people with traumatic experiences did not tend to take any form of unexpected or unwanted physical contact positively.

A pathetic whimper escaped the trembling man, whose bearded face was completely hidden against his knees.

“It’s me love, Obi-Wan. You remember me, don’t you? I am your husband, remember?” He dared to lean just a little closer. “Do you remember where you are? You are in our shared bedroom. You know, the one with the new bed and the magnificent view on our garden. We have a garden Qui-Gon, bought together with the house a couple of years ago. You were immediately in love with it all, you called it ‘treasure’, while I called it ‘ruin’.” He had to stifle a chuckle at the fond memory.

A pair of blue-green eyes watched closely for any kind of reaction or for a difference in the older male’s posture and behavior. It was almost unnoticeable, but Qui-Gon HAD tilted his head just a little bit to the right. He was listening and even registering the words. It was a good sign.

“Do you remember all the work we did to make it livable? Our friends and families called us crazy and I agreed with them, but you were so convinced and I just had to agree and help you in every way that I could.” Only now did Obi-Wan dare to reach out, his fingertips barely making contact with brown locks. When it was clear that the distraught man would not immediately pull back, he rested the rest of his hand on Qui-Gon’s head. “And all the time you invested into our garden… It was worth it, especially when we decided to marry there. That was also a couple of years ago, we were one of the first same sex couples that were allowed to actually marry… you DO remember me… don’t you?”

“Obi-Wan,” his name was uttered in barely more than a whisper, but it was there and it was an excellent sign.

“Yes,” he began stroking the other’s hair, “that’s it my love. Come back to me, come back to the here and now. Everything is fine, you are not in danger, you are safe here… with me.”

“With… you?” the man’s voice was so soft, it didn’t fit him, not at all.

“Yes,” he nodded, even though his husband could not see the gesture. “There is no war anymore… you are no soldier anymore. You are my husband and we live in the little town called Naboo, where we have our house and where my brother lives. We went their yesterday, watching their children, Luke and Leia.” He had gotten to know the long haired man, when he was still a soldier, before he had been sent to the other end of the world to fight in a mindless war in which hundreds of people died. Qui-Gon had made it back, alive but not unscarred.

 

A hum escaped the distraught man, who had stopped shaking and who very slowly and very carefully lifted his head. Obi-Wan gave his beloved a soft and indulgent smile, even though he himself felt like crying when he saw the red rimmed eyes and the tearstains on the bearded man’s face. Slowly the ginger haired male moved his hand again, until it was resting on Qui-Gon’s cheek. The latter actually leaned into the contact.

“Leia… she took a liking to my hair,” he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s one way to put it,” his blue-green eyes sparkled in mischief, and he slowly maneuvered his husband out of his hunched position. It was not much, but at least he was leaning properly against the wall now and his breathing had calmed down as well.

A sad smile appeared on Qui-Gon’s features, but it vanished as soon as it had appeared. “Yeah,” he breathed out, his eyes avoiding Obi-Wan’s.

The ginger haired male made a humming sound and he lovingly pushed long strands of chestnut brown hair out of his husband’s face. “Are you alright now?” Qui-Gon nodded, obviously embarrassed. “What happened anyway?”

The other’s face turned to a crimson shade of red. He didn’t want to talk about it, but the psychiatrist had told Obi-Wan that his husband NEEDED to talk in order to get better.

“There was a loud noise outside, a bang,” he bit his bottom lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Qui-Gon,” he sighed. They had have this talk a thousand times already, but the slightly older male still felt like he had to apologize, that it was his fault. “Don’t be sorry, it is not-”

“No,” stubbornness had returned to midnight blue eyes and Obi-Wan sat back on his heels in surprise, pulling his hand away from the beloved face. “Don’t lie to me,” there was hurt on the taller man’s features and new tears were forming in his eyes. His mouth was set in a tight line, but his voice had been surprisingly steady.

“What are you talking about?” every word was carefully pronounced by Obi-Wan, all the previous easiness gone. What remained was an air of defiance and an unvoiced warning.

“You know exactly what I am talking about,” growled Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his emotions. It would do neither of them any good, if he were to lose his cool and speak out in ire. They both would get hurt then. Instead he rose to his feet, hovering above the glaring male. “Matter of fact, I don’t,” he informed in a formal voice.

Qui-Gon scoffed and there was an ugly grimace on his features. “Of course not.”

Obi-Wan’s temper flared, but he shoved it down again. He was not the one with the mental instability. “Alright,” he put his hands on his hips, “if you decided to stop being a total arsehole, you can gladly join me in the kitchen and tell me what this is all about.” With that, he turned around, leaving a slightly stunned Qui-Gon sitting on the carpet.

 

He did not need to listen to such nonsense, decided Obi-Wan. He had other things to do after all, taking care of the house – Qui-Gon took care of the garden and he took care of the house – and preparing the dinner for tomorrow, when his brother Anakin and his family would come to visit. It was a small tradition of them. Ones a week, most of the time during weekend, they would come together and this week, it was the Jinn household’s turn to make dinner. Next week it would be the Skywalker household again.

 

Obi-Wan was almost done, when Qui-Gon decided to enter the kitchen. His steps had been silent, which meant that he was walking barefoot. Neither male said anything, neither wanting to start. Eventually, the taller man sat down at the kitchen table, he was wringing his hands, a clear sign that he was uncomfortable and that he did not want to be here.

“Is this for tomorrow?” the brown haired man asked, gesturing to the various bowls and pots.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. Qui-Gon was trying for smalltalk.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I am almost finished,” in the reflection in the oven, he could see the grimace of his husband. He had tried to offer help in order to get back into his good graces, a pity that it would not work this time.

The ginger haired man put the last of the vegetables in a bowl, before placing it in the refrigerator. Then he cleaned his hands with a towel and finally, he turned to regard the man at the kitchen table with a stern gaze. He leaned against the counter.

“Ready to talk yet, or would you prefer if we keep saying nothing to each other?”

“Stop acting so… so,” he the taller male was gesturing wildly with his hands, searching for a word, “so patronizing. You act as if I am a child,” he added when he saw the raised eyebrow of his husband.

“Patronizing?” he could not believe his ears. A scoff escaped him. “Have you gone mad? It is YOU, who is acting like a spoiled brat, I am just following my role.”

“And what kind of role would that be?” he regretted the question as soon as he had voiced it, for Obi-Wan’s face darkened. It was not a good sign and inwardly, Qui-Gon flinched. Despite his slender and smaller stature, Obi-Wan could be quite scary.

“Your husband,” Qui-Gon had already opened his mouth to retort something, but Obi-Wan was not yet finished talking. “Just for the record, I am your equal Qui-Gon Jinn, not one of your cadets in the army. I won’t tolerate you speaking to me as if I am stupid or beneath you. You would do well to remember that.” There was a fire burning in his blue-green eyes.

“Then why are you not doing the same? When we are equals, why don’t you treat me as such?”

He held out his arms in a disbelieving gesture. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I heard you talking with your brother last week… I heard what you called me… that you think me a burden,” Qui-Gon spat out. “Why don’t you just dumb me, instead of talking behind my back? Dumb me and perhaps then this whole charade will stop and we can finally live happy.”

“I never said that,” Obi-Wan was proud that his voice was steady. The other’s words had hurt, greatly.

“Don’t lie-” he was rudely interrupted.

“I never said that,” he had gotten louder now. “If you really need to know, Anakin and I were talking about children and he asked me, if we ever wanted to have some. I told him that it was already hard enough between work, taking care of the house and garden and actual free time. I told him that children would be just another burden and that we would not be able to properly take care of them.” He felt the tears already forming, but he stubbornly willed them away again. He could not believe that his own husband would think so lowly of him and excuse him of such a thing.

The older male blinked, staring dumbly with his mouth slightly ajar at the ginger haired male. Had he truly misunderstood things so much? Granted, he had only heard about half the conversation, perhaps even less from what Obi-Wan was telling him.

“Obi-” again he was interrupted, this time, by his husband shaking his head.

“You know what,” he reached behind him, taking the phone from its charging station and he threw it at the taller male, who had trouble catching it, “Why don’t you just call Anakin and ask him yourself, since it seems like you don’t believe me anyway. And when you are at it, you can also call your sister right after.”

Qui-Gon’s sister Tahl was a lawyer, specialized in divorce and such matters. Obi-Wan advising him to call her, could only mean one thing. Shocked and in despair, did he look up, trying to make eye contact with the ginger haired male, but he had already turned back to the kitchen counter, cleaning away the tools he had used.

 

Qui-Gon felt ill and like the greatest idiot and bastard in the whole world. He had always known that his pride and his easily hurt ego would one day be cause for a lot of trouble, but that it would also cause such uproar in his relationship...

He bit his lip and looked at his lap, where the black phone was still resting. Of course he believed his husband, Obi-Wan had never lied to him before, and there was no reason to call Anakin. If there was a reason to call Tahl… he desperately hoped not. He was not sure if he could take it. In all honesty, a life without Obi-Wan seemed… empty and without meaning. The fact that his PTSD would probably only get worse without the compassionate and understanding man at his side, was just another reason.

 

Obi-Wan himself was fighting a losing battle against his tears and the reason for them were not the remains of the onions sitting nearby. Automatically, without really looking at what his hands were doing, he washed the dirty tools and dishes, not really bothering about them anyway. He had done this so often, he could probably do it blind.

He didn’t want to divorce, but if Qui-Gon should want it… He just wanted the older male to be happy and if he was the cause for him to be unhappy, then he would leave, no matter how much it might hurt him.

He heard the cracking of a chair behind him, a clear indicator that Qui-Gon was moving. He did not turn to look. In all honesty, he hoped the man would just leave him alone for a bit, at least until he had collected himself and they could talk like two civilized men again, instead of this deliberately hurting way.

 

The chair scraped loud against the kitchen floor and Obi-Wan flinched inwardly. He HATED this sound. For a moment, he believed that his husband had actually left him alone for now, but then a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist and a warm body pressed up to him. The ginger haired male tensed upon the contact, not sure if it was wanted or not. For a moment, he just waited, not moving, not speaking. A head came to rest on his shoulders and the arms around him tightened.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Qui-Gon and he pressed a gentle kiss to his lover’s cheek. It was barely a whisper against the pale skin, but it was undeniably there. “I’m sorry,” he repeated and finally pulled away, having read the younger male’s body language and understanding that his beautiful partner did not want to be in his presence right now.

He couldn’t blame him. First a setback in his recovery from PTSD and then his terrible behavior… That was not how a healthy marriage worked, how a healthy marriage was SUPPOSED to work.

 

“Qui-Gon,” the teary voice of the younger male stopped Qui-Gon from exciting the kitchen, like he had fully intended to.

“Yes?” he did not dare to hope, he did not even move. But then, a smaller hand grabbed his.

“I don’t want us to fight… and I want us to part like this after a fight.”

“Me neither,” confessed Qui-Gon. Hesitantly he intertwined their fingers and was surprised, when Obi-Wan allowed it.

A smaller body pressed against his side and Qui-Gon took it as allowance to turn around and wrap his arms around his slightly younger partner. He hated to see the ginger distressed like this, he hated to fight with Obi-Wan – what happened every once in a while, to his shame – and he hated to see tears escaping usually bright and beautiful blue-green eyes.

He leaned down, tilting the head of his freckled lover up, until their lips met in a slow kiss that was communicating everything they could not put into words. But Qui-Gon was no fool, he knew the matter was not dropped quite yet. They WOULD talk about what happened, but not now. They would wait until both their emotional states had calmed down a bit.

“I love you,” Qui-Gon whispered against Obi-Wan’s lips, a sad smile on his features and his thumb still stroking the other’s cheek lovingly, wiping away the traces of the smaller man’s sadness.

“I love you too,” Obi-Wan confessed.

Qui-Gon stole another quick kiss, reassuring both him and his partner, before completely pulling out of the embrace. He nodded and awkwardly cleared his throat. “I’ll be outside.”

“Yeah,” he too felt awkward, “I’ll be here,” he gestured to the kitchen behind him and the mess he had made.

Under normal circumstances, Qui-Gon would have gladly helped him, but he needed to do some hard physical work right now. He just hoped the neighbor from the other side of the street was done with violently shutting his car doors and with throwing heavy metals objects on the sidewalk. He was not sure if he could handle another fit… not now.

 

After he had heard the balcony door shut close again, Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and he leaned heavily against the wall, with his head tilted back. He was desperately trying to get his breathing under control again, but at least the tears had stopped. His mother had warned him not to date a soldier, especially not one, who would be sent into crisis areas. Back then, he had thrown all warnings to the wind and even today he did not regret his decision. But he often asked himself, if Qui-Gon did. Why else would he have so much doubt? Did he truly believe that Obi-Wan did not love him, that he only saw him as a burden? The ginger haired male shook his head. Perhaps it was just a mistake on his part. Perhaps he was not showing the older man how much he truly meant to him.

He sighed and let his head drop forward, until his chin came to rest on his chest again. Things had to change, that much was clear. He was not sure, how much of this constant bickering and arguing he could take, and he did not deny the fact that their fighting had become worse the last few months. And the worst part was, that he did not even had an idea on WHY things were getting so much worse. Perhaps his husband’s medication needed reevaluation. It COULD explain his aggressive behavior, which was quite unnatural for the veteran.

Unconsciously, Obi-Wan wiped at his eye and he moved his head a little sideways to do so. His gaze came to rest on the pinboard, where a huge photo hung. It showed the two of them, him and Qui-Gon. They were laughing at each other, with love-sick expressions on their faces, while Qui-Gon held him inappropriate close. The picture showed the day of their wedding. He had to smile at the memory, it had been good times.

Obi-Wan hummed in thought. Why ‘had been’? He was still madly in love with the stubborn man, just like on their first real date after they had been officially a couple, all those years ago. Qui-Gon had surprised him with a sweet picnic near a lake. It had been beautiful and sweet and very romantic.

He pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to the pinboard. Hesitantly he reached out, the tips of his fingers brushing against the cold picture. They had gone through so much already, they would overcome this crisis as well. It was normal for married couples to have bad times too. After all it said, ‘In good and in bad times’. Obi-Wan nodded to himself, having found new inspiration and determination. They would overcome this, perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but someday in the future. He just knew it.

 

With a lighter heart, the ginger haired man turned back to his task. He even managed to whistle a small tune, one of his husband’s favorite songs.

Things would get brighter soon, he could feel it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it.  
> Don't forget to leave a comment behind. ^^
> 
> I can also be found on Tumblr.  
> Inkognito97.tumblr.com  
> You can find a lot more Star Wars related stuff there.^^


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